sithkabobed | IC CONTACT

Despite the fact that Ezra's the one who bought Qui-Gon that tea, he probably won't be able to tell which one Qui-Gon is using. He's really not a tea-drinker himself, even if he's gotten more used to drinking it (especially while he's visiting this house).

But the tea's not made yet, so it's really moot at this point, and Qui-Gon's here and resting a hand on his shoulder with a reassuring weight that Ezra just... just wants to lean into a little bit. Maybe more than a little bit. It feels like exactly what he needs right now.

"Good evening, Master Jinn," he murmurs back, and Qui-Gon can probably feel some of the tension ease beneath his hand. He slides over on the couch a little, making room if Qui-Gon wants to sit down. "And thanks. For coming out here with me."

"Of course. My door is always open," Qui-Gon reassures him.

He pulls his hand away from Ezra's shoulder when he feels the boy relax. He then takes the proffered seat with a gentle sigh devoid of frustration and simply the byproduct of an old man revealing a tiny glimpse of his age. Regardless, when Qui-Gon tilts his body to face Ezra, his gaze is alert and friendly. He's ready and, more importantly, happily willing to listen to whatever it is he has to say.

"What did you want to talk about?"

That sigh just makes Ezra all the more grateful that Qui-Gon got up for him. He's old enough that he should really get his rest, but here he is, responding to Ezra's need. Words don't feel adequate as a way to express how much he appreciates this, though, so instead, Ezra just leans into him, giving him a one-armed hug.

"Just... I don't know..." His smile fades into something more pensive, and he doesn't pull away from Qui-Gon just yet. "Anything? I can't seem to let go of what I'm worried about, even though I'm trying. Maybe if I think about something else."

Qui-Gon loosely wraps an arm around Ezra's shoulders in return, careful to give the boy room to move as he pleases.

"Would you like to try speaking to me about what is worrying you, first? Perhaps I can help."

Whatever is plaguing Ezra was enough to make him seek company in the middle of the night. If he didn't want to talk about it, that's fine enough, Qui-Gon won't force him, but if he could provide some sort of assistance... all the better, no?

Loose as the hug is, it still feels good, satisfying something deep down inside him that he usually pushes away. It's sitting close to the surface now, though, for some reason, and... and it's okay if it's Qui-Gon. Instead of pulling away, Ezra just curls up closer, soaking up the comfortable warmth that comes from just... just being close like this.

"I'm worried about everyone back home," he admits. "I know we're supposed to go back to when we left, but I keep thinking about what-ifs. What if I don't ever go back? What if I don't go back to the same time or the same place? What if I can't stop the things I know are going to go wrong?" He hesitates for a moment, and then... "Hera told me that... that Kanan got hurt on Malachor."

She told him it wasn't his fault, too, but guilt still weighs on his heart.

Having a close relationship with the living Force oftentimes has its benefits, oftentimes arising as an innate ability to read thoughts and emotions like one would a book. Qui-Gon doesn't need to use those abilities here, however. Ezra's waves of guilt are almost palpable not through the Force or their amulets, but in his words. Qui-Gon isn't sure what he should attribute Ezra nestling even closer against his side to, but the fact remains that the boy needs that physical contact for one reason or another.

Far be it from Qui-Gon to deny the simple things.

"You believe you had a hand in what hurt him."

Or, in this case, who hurt him. Given the place, time, and Maul's track record, Qui-Gon wouldn't be surprised if the Sith had a hand in injuring Ezra's master.

Ezra's mouth quirks up in a smile that isn't really a smile at all. "Pretty sure I'm right about it, too. I told you before that Maul was there with us. I trusted him, and I talked the others into trusting him, too." And now he knows that that was a mistake.

He can already anticipate what Qui-Gon's response to that is likely going to be, though. He releases a breath, almost a sigh, and just lets his head rest against the Master's side. It's nice, having an anchor when he has doubts, even if Qui-Gon's presence can't just erase them. It makes him miss Kanan and Hera even more, but in a way it helps with that, too.

"I know, I know," he says. "Maul made his own choices, and so did Kanan and Ahsoka, but..." But still. "I wish I could talk to Kanan about it."

He would've been surprised if Ezra didn't know the first leg of advice Qui-Gon had waiting in the wings. Over the past few months, the boy has shown remarkable growth and maturity as he took the many lessons the collective Jedi in Verens had to offer. It's enough to draw a small smile to Qui-Gon's face as he hums in thought.

"I may not know much about Kanan," he begins, "but I do know a thing or two about training a Padawan, and what that training entails--both for the student and the master."

He shifts his gaze to account for Ezra's lean, not fazed in the slightest by the affectionate gesture. He's used to such things by now thanks to a combination of swift adaptability and a penchant towards the tactile unseen in most other Jedi (including Master Dooku, famously).

"When a Jedi chooses their Padawan, any semblance of self-preservation left from our pledge to serve the greater good goes to ensuring the safety of our charge. From that moment onward, our lives are effectively yours. We protect you, we shelter you, and we help you grow into the finest Jedi we possibly can--regardless of how difficult some of you can be."

It's a gentle, well-meaning tease, but there's truth behind it. Every life is precious, but the bond between a Jedi Knight and their Padawan is sacred.

"Kanan understood the weight of his decision to claim you as his Padawan and all of the implications that come with it. As your master, and as someone who is sharing a bond with you, he is willing to lay his life down if it means ensuring yours is spared. I'm sure he doesn't blame you for whatever transpired, just as I've never blamed Obi-Wan."

"But if his life is mine, that means I need to protect it, too!" Ezra protests. "A bond goes both ways, Master Jinn. If he can't or won't look after himself, then someone needs to do it for him." And that's where Ezra would clearly fail.

He knows he's right, though. Kanan can't shoulder all the responsibility here. Ezra's not a little kid. Kanan should be able to rely on him, to trust that Ezra will watch his back, too.

"Just because he's willing doesn't mean that's the way it should go."

Qui-Gon nods because, just as Ezra's been asserting, he is right. The partnership between Master and Padawan is a two-way street full of shared responsibility. Yes, as Qui-Gon stated, the teacher is the one who assumes the most responsibility, but that's only a natural turn of events--it's a latent protective paternal instinct present in most Jedi who choose to take on a Padawan. It's the byproduct of the Jedi Order who, despite their insistence in forbidding attachment, turns around and has their Masters take children under their collective wings, forming tiny families in all but blood.

As much as Qui-Gon loved the Order, such hypocrisies didn't escape his notice... nor his ire.

"That is true," Qui-Gon confirms, "and you've done everything in your power to follow your instincts and do what you can to keep him safe. That includes forming alliances you believe to be beneficial."

He gives Ezra's shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

"Whatever the consequence, know that your intentions were good and continue to trust in them and your instincts."

It's not really enough to settle Ezra's guilt. Intentions may be all well and good, but consequences matter, too. Still, Qui-Gon is trying to comfort him, and that alone... helps. Helps in an intangible way that makes Ezra burrow into that squeeze a little bit. The warmth of that hold and Qui-Gon's steady presence are like a rock, or an anchor, that Ezra really needs. For now, it'll do.

It'll do until he can talk to Kanan himself.

"Don't your instincts ever lead your wrong?" he murmurs, half protest, but half curious.

Qui-Gon considers the question, giving it the time and thought it deserves before he responds.

"My instincts are based on what the living Force is telling me, therefore I cannot say that they have ever led me wrong."

He sighs heavily, his chest rising and falling enough that his entire body shifts. He can feel Ezra's head move along with it.

"But there are times when I have to remember that what is good for the galaxy may not necessarily be good for me. I may fail in protecting someone, but ultimately, it may be for someone else's benefit in the long run. We can only put our trust in the Force and that our actions will contribute to something greater."

A few moments pass as he remembers his many failures... people who have died under his watch, governments that have crumbled despite his attempts at keeping order, relationships that have dissolved because of poor words and even poorer decisions... but then there are also his many successes. The legacy he has left behind in worlds saved, citizens kept alive, and happiness brought with simple actions and statements.

The life of a Jedi is humble, but also overwhelming in its scope.

"At the end of the day, Ezra, we can only do our best. Sometimes our best will lead to successes to be celebrated, other times, they are opportunities to learn that can only be experienced through failure. What matters is what you let define you, and how you apply that experience to your next decision."

Not exactly the words that a kid wants to hear, that sometimes he'll fail even if he's following the will of the Force. But... in a way, it is comforting to think that even if he screws up, or if he fails, it might still be good for the galaxy, just in ways he can't see.

Even so...

"Does that mean it would be bad to want to change it?" He lifts his head to look at Qui-Gon for a moment before letting it rest back where it had been, to listen to a heart that's still beating despite Qui-Gon's own stated failure. He wants it to keep beating just as badly as he doesn't want Kanan to get hurt. "Am I going against the will of the Force? Or is what I do part of what it wants?"

"As Jedi, we have a distinct advantage in that we can hear and interpret--for the most part--what the Force is trying to tell us. It is a power that can be misconstrued, but only if we allow our personal desires to sway it."

Qui-Gon won't insult Ezra's intelligence by pretending he doesn't know what it is the boy is alluding to, and he tilts his own head to match the Padawan's gaze with a knowing neutrality. He has his own opinions on the matter, being one of the many people whose fates Ezra is trying to change, but this isn't his decision to make.

"I don't have a direct answer to your question, Ezra. What I do know is that the Force adapts to our decisions, and that we are not free of the consequences thereof. But most of all, I know we must accept whatever comes to pass--whether we like it or not."

Ezra has to chew on that for a moment. He can read between the lines, too, to hear Qui-Gon's reminder about their conversation before. Acceptance. He'd promised to accept the outcome, no matter what it was. But it's not here yet. I can still try for something else.

Is that selfish? Is he only acting on his own desires here?

"But I can want something that the Force wants too. Right? Personal desires aren't always bad. And they're not always the only reason someone has."

"Yes you can, and no they are not."

Qui-Gon offers Ezra another half-hug and a small, poignant smile. This isn't a lecture, nor is he trying to dissuade Ezra from doing what he believes is right, but caution is an important virtue and acceptance is a quality that will keep the boy on the right path.

"What is important is acceptance, and how you intend to learn from your experience."

Edited 2017-07-31 16:43 (UTC)

Something in Ezra relaxes a little at that one-armed hug. The words help, yes, but the hug underscores them, giving them a more concrete feel. Ezra closes his eyes, relishing the contact without question, even slipping his own arms around Qui-Gon.

"I don't know what I'll learn," he admits. "But I'd still like to find out. It's... It feels important to me."

"'We are not to know, we are to do'." Qui-Gon murmurs in response, his voice instinctively lowering as Ezra makes himself comfortable even further. Something tells him that the boy's late night travel will be catching up to him soon--best to keep from making too much noise.

"It's a Jedi proverb," he explains, "about the uncertainty of the future, and our role in the present. You'll find your place, Ezra, and your correct path. Just continue doing good."

Qui-Gon's more perceptive than Ezra is right now, fatigue creeping in behind the boy's eyes without him even realizing it. "I will," he murmurs, promise heartfelt no matter that the world's beginning to fade. "Do the best I can." And it's comforting, in a way, that he doesn't always have to know what to do - because he doesn't always know what to do. But if it's enough to follow what his heart tells him is right...

He can do that. Maybe not perfectly, but still. He can do it.

And that thought's enough to bring him the peace he needed when he sought Qui-Gon out tonight. The last bit of tension keeping him awake dissipates, and... well. Qui-Gon makes a perfectly good pillow to rest his head against, warm robes, gentle arms, and all.

"I know you will."

Qui-Gon's voice is quiet with sobriety, but not devoid of hope for Ezra's future. Whatever the boy is destined to encounter is uncertain, and he has many paths sprawling before his undoubtedly shaky feet. But Qui-Gon trusts Ezra's desire to do the right thing, just as he trusts the young Padawan will falter, just as he trusts that he'll pick himself up, dust off his clothes, and continue forward. It's clear that he has the indomitable spirit of a Jedi in the making.

When Ezra falls silent, Qui-Gon gently brushes his fingers through his hair, tied up in a ponytail reminiscent of a Padawan from years long past and a culture long decimated. It hurts, at first, to think of the Jedi Order as nothing but a fairy tale, its followers reduced to the ranks of specters and mythology. But then his thoughts turn to the very real fact that the Jedi Order's future will be carried on by the likes of Luke and the boy nestled against his side. Suddenly, things don't seem so bad. Suddenly, the briefest glimpses of hope are enough to sway Qui-Gon's thoughts along a more positive route--in no small part thanks to the dedication Ezra has already shown to his cause.

The Padawan's breathing evens out and his grip, although still secure, relaxes just enough to clue Qui-Gon in on what's happened. Ezra is asleep, and the old Jedi is trapped.

Just as well, Qui-Gon muses with a smile as he unceremoniously tosses the unused packet of tea onto the nearby table, he's had me trapped since the moment he arrived on this island.

He settles into the couch without much thought going into comfort. He's slept in far worse conditions on different assignments, and although his own apprentices may have complained about piles of garbage digging into their backs or torrential rainfall making their cloaks soggy and unfit to keep them warm, Qui-Gon always took it all in stride.

Despite his past reluctance to take on Obi-Wan after his failure with Xanatos, Qui-Gon now finds himself missing those days. The days filled with mild heart attacks at the behest of his Padawan's safety, those precious moments of learning and discovery, and heartfelt conversations where he could impart wisdom and receive new perspective in return. Here, with Ezra, Rey, Lune, and others from their galaxy looking to learn about the path of the Jedi, he can relive them a little bit and do his part to ensure the Jedi will never truly die.

He glances down at Ezra once more before allowing his own eyes to flutter shut, easing his body into a state between meditation and sleep. It's not a disposition that allows for dreaming outside of the occasional capricious message from the Force, but it does leave room for thought. As such, a single question briefly crosses Qui-Gon's mind, leaving it open to considering all of its possible answers:

What kind of person will you become?

Qui-Gon doesn't want to entertain the idea that Ezra could fall down a dark path, but the chance is still there. It's always there. Xanatos taught him that. Still, and it could very well be the product of his optimistic words minutes ago, he can't help but believe that Ezra will, regardless of his ultimate fate, make himself and his master proud and the galaxy a better place.

And that's what really matters.

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